


One or Two?

by MCUsic_to_my_ears



Series: Making Our Way Home [3]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF JARVIS, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Bruce Banner Angst, Bruce Banner Feels, Bruce Banner Has Daddy Issues, Bruce Banner Has Issues, Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Deaf Character, Deaf Clint Barton, Depression, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Insomnia, Jarvis (Iron Man movies) is a Good Bro, Nightmares, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Science Bros, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Suicidal Thoughts, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Swears, because he's, even if he's bad at showing it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-11 08:57:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7884814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MCUsic_to_my_ears/pseuds/MCUsic_to_my_ears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Tony discovers that his friend has been hiding that he's low for a better part of the week, he knows that they have some changes that need to be made so that it doesn't happen again. Which includes telling the rest of the Avengers about the problem that both Tony and Bruce had been hiding. </p><p>Trigger Warning: extremely depressed and suicidal character, references to self harm, night terrors</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Sir,  Mr. Rogers is requesting access to this lab," JARVIS informed the engineer, who didn’t look up from the monitor as he asked, "What does he want?" After a moment, JARVIS replied, "He wants to discuss some concerns that he has about Dr. Banner." Tony frowned, "Brucie?” He clicked out of the design he’d been working on. “Yeah let him in." He turned just as the doors opened and Steve entered. "What's up with Bruce?" Tony asked without preamble. "Have you seen Dr. Banner lately?" Steve shot back instead of answering. Tony narrowed his eyes, studying Steve as he replied, "Um, yeah. I talked to him, what?” he glanced at the ceiling as if expecting JARVIS to say something. “Three days ago? He's been working in his own lab on something because his equipment is ‘more specialized’ or whatever. What changed?" Tony asked, thinking over his own interaction with Bruce earlier that week. Nothing seemed more out of the ordinary than usual. 

“I just passed him in the hallway. His eyes are… the best word I can use to describe them as is hollow, empty. I don't think he actually saw me,” Steve seemed a bit unsure of himself, as if what he’d experienced was unreal. "Shit, JARVIS, what's he at?" Tony asked. Steve cocked his head, but didn’t comment. "Forty-five percent, sir," the AI responded. "He's up _thirty_ _percent_ and you didn't tell me?" Tony asked, jumping to his feet. "It's in your and Dr. Banner's contract to not contact you until he is above fifty percent, sir.” Tony was on the move, making his way to the elevator as Steve followed. “What are you talking about?” Steve asked. Tony sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Bruce is basically always on suicide watch, because he's always around 10 to 15 percent chance that he's going to try and off himself within the next twenty four hours,” he explained. Then he said, “JARVIS, tell Bruce that I'm on my way up and that he better let me into his room.” 

“Yes, sir,” the AI replied as Steve asked, “Wait, Dr. Banner is now at forty-five percent chance, why did no one know?” Before Tony can answer, JARVIS replies, “Dr. Banner has requested that you do not enter his floor.” Tony answered JARVIS, "Yeah, well he can't stop me. Right?” He thought a moment, “J, when am I allowed to disregard his privacy again?” 

“Sixty percent sir.” 

"Well shit,” Tony remarked. “Anyways Stevie, no one knows 'cause when Bruce first moved in he was at like fifty percent and I was mad at him for not telling me so we made a contract that both protected his privacy and him from himself and JARVIS won't let me break that contract." Steve nodded in shock, “Oh,” is all he can think of to say. “JARVIS, how sound proof is his lab?” Tony asked, running a hand over his jaw. “Highly, but he is not in his lab, sir,” JARVIS replied as the elevator sped up to Bruce’s floor. “He's in his bedroom?” he asked. “Yes, sir. Those walls are slightly less soundproof, but not by much,” the AI informed him. “Fantastic,” Tony shook his head. “How long has he been in there?” he asked. “The past thirty minutes sir,” the AI informed him. Tony turned. “Steve you said that you just passed him,” he asked accusingly. “Yes, and I  _ might've _ followed him up to his room and tried to talk to him…” Steve supplied. “Great. Just  _ great _ ,” Tony said, pinching his nose. “ _ Please _ have JARVIS get me first next time, okay?” Tony looked at the ceiling annoyed. “Okay,” Steve repled, his words a bit skeptical. “Awesome,” Tony sounded more sincere this time. “JARVIS, when did he last eat?” he asked. “Eighteen hours, sir.” Tony shook his head as he ran through the list. “How did he get away with that?” 

“He skipped breakfast and had an early dinner last night,” JARVIS explained. "Fine,”  Tony allowed, “He had his tea this morning, yeah?” Tony asked. “He’s drunk about half of it so far, sir.” Tony sighed, “Good enough, and how is he on sleep?” Steve glanced at Tony as JARVIS made Bruce’s situation sound even worse. “He has slept around six hours per night for the last week, sir,” JARVIS replied. “I don't buy that, but whatever. He's been taking his meds?” Tony asked, reaching the end of his ‘Is Bruce Okay?’ checklist. “Yes, sir. He accidently skipped last Monday in the morning, but after that he continued to take them,” JARVIS supplied. “There's no way for him to pretend to take them, right?” 

“He takes them inside his bedroom as you requested, and cameras pick up everything. It would be unlikely for him to trick the algorithm.” Tony sighed as the elevator doors opened, “When do I get access to security cameras?” he asked, hurrying down the hallway. “At fifty percent, sir.” Tony shook his head, “Ugh, that's stupid," he complained. Steve rolled his eyes as Tony paused, thinking, “What percent is he at for self harming?” Steve glanced at the engineer anxiously, not wanting to hear the answer. “Fifty five percent, sir.” Steve swallowed at the likelihood. “What are the benchmarks for that?” JARVIS quickly listed them in response, “At fifty, you get access to cameras. You're contacted at sixty five and have access to his room at seventy.” Both Steve and Tony let out a sigh, but for different reasons. “Great, pull up his cameras,” Tony said, pulling out his phone. “And have one of the bots bring me a pen and paper,” he added, coming up to Bruce's bedroom door, Steve in tow, and banging on it. “Bruce, I don't know how in hell you tricked the algorithm, but you better let me in the room right now so I can yell at you properly!” There's no answer, but the footage was up, showing Bruce pacing the floor, shaking a little. 

“Bruce Banner, I swear if you don't realize that you need help after pacing for this long, then you clearly don't understand the point of our contract!" Bruce pauses for a moment in the footage, glancing at a camera, before continuing, running his hands through his hair briefly. “Bruce, come on, you know that something’s wrong, that you need help. I’m right here, man. Just let me help you! I get that you’ve learned since last time, but so have I,” he softened his voice, but still projecting heavily. A bot appeared as he spoke, and Tony took the paper and pencil out of it’s pouch. “And now I know that talking isn’t really your thing right now, so I got you some nice paper and a pencil and I’m sliding them under the door now and I just need you to write on them to say that I can come in, okay?” he requested, watching Bruce pick up the pencil and paper, but doesn’t write anything, instead taking them to his desk, as Tony asks, “JARVIS, has he been actually working in the lab for the past week?” Steve asked Tony nervously, “Last time?” as JARVIS replied, “Yes, sir. He has been in the lab every day this week. Though his amount of time spent there has decreased each following day.” 

“How long was he in there today?” Tony asks, before replying to Steve, “Bruce has been up to sixty twice in the four months that he’s lived here.” They both glanced back at the screen where Bruce had starting writing. “For approximately five minutes. He turned on his monitor and left five minutes later. No work was accomplished,” JARVIS informed as Steve replied, “And you didn’t tell me?!” He was clearly upset that secrets were being kept. Tony answered, “ _ Great _ . This is just  _ awesome _ ,” to JARVIS, then to Steve, “You weren’t here and honestly, you have a tendency to make things worse when it comes to Bruce.” He’s about to shout for Bruce to cut Steve off, because he doesn’t want to hear it, when the note comes back through the door. ‘Fuck off’ it reads. “Clever, bud. Very me. But I’m not leaving, okay?” No reply came, and Tony saw the Bruce had resumed pacing. Steve was still fuming as Tony slid the paper back under the door and this time adds his phone. 

“There, now you can spy on me and Steve. Because we care about you and aren’t leaving from this spot until you let us in. Because eventually, you’ll go long enough without eating, that you’ll either have to leave, or the algorithm will catch on and you’ll get bumped up to sixty and we’re in. Or I could yell enough that one of the Spy Twins starts to get annoyed and decide to break into your room themselves, because that technically wouldn’t break our contract if _someone_ _else_ decided to break in.” Tony gave Steve a meaningful look. “So there’s no staying in there forever, Bruce, you can’t hide from me!” The door clicks open and Tony jumps to his feet. “Thank God,” he mutters under his breath, pulling Bruce, who is shaking and fighting back tears, into a hug and starts rubbing his back. “Thank you. _God,_ thank you, Bruce. It’s okay. I’m here, we’re going to be fine,” he starts leading him back to the bedroom, leaving Steve hovering at the door. “Okay, there we go,” Tony commented as they sit down on the bed, not letting Bruce go. “One or two, eat first or sleep first?” he asked. Bruce shook his head in response. “Nope, you have to pick one, big man. JARVIS might not have caught it, I might not have caught it early enough, but you’re clearly above sixty right now. So one or two, eat or sleep, or is there a third option that I was unaware of?” Tony asked, sliding Bruce away a little to try and make eye contact with his friend.

Bruce refused to, and tried to pull away even more, his brain moving too fast for Tony to understand. “Nope,” the engineer said, slightly tightening his grip on Bruce’s arms. “Either talk to me or pick one, bud. You’re tired Bruce, you probably haven’t slept in days, so I need you to work with me. I need you to tell me what you want to do first: do you want to eat or sleep?” he repeated. Bruce’s jaw worked, trying to slow down his mind, before he held up two fingers. “Okay. I’m going to grab your fast acting med, then let’s go to bed. I’m not leaving since you clearly know how to trick JARVIS. Let’s go put on PJ’s, yeah?” Bruce nodded a little and Tony pulled them both up to their feet. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: references to suicide and self harm

About  an hour later, Steve drifted into Bruce’s bedroom, Tony having kicked him out earlier as he tried to convince Bruce to go to bed. He finally had fallen asleep and Tony now sat off to the side, alternating between watching his friend and working on one of the water filter designs they had been working on earlier that month. “Is he… okay?” he asked. Tony shrugged, “I ran through everything again with JARVIS, we’re putting him around seventy-five, but I have a feeling that he’s higher than that.” He kept his voice low, trying not to wake Bruce. “I made him take some sleepy drugs along with his just-in-case fast acting stuff, so he should be out for a while. But that means I can’t talk to him until he’s up and figure out what the hell he was working on,” Tony explained. He pulled up what Bruce had last opened up on his computers. “Which I would normally have JARVIS explain to me,  _ but  _ our friend over there went ultra coded on me, and has everything saved in different spots. Some of it’s handwritten and he’s the only one who knows the order. I bet half of it is just in his memory.  _ But _ if he’s been working on it all week, which means it important and can probably hurt himself… somehow.” Tony shook his head, “God, Bruce, what’ve you been doing?” he muttered, mostly to himself. “He’s trying to keep the Other Guy down through drugs?” Steve asked, taking a seat next to Tony. “So that he can… you know,” Tony clarified, shaking his head. Bruce muttered something in his sleep. Tony gave Steve a look, “He, um, he said, ‘Leave her alone’ and then ‘I’m sorry’ multiple times,” Steve supplied, somewhat ashamed of how much is enhanced hearing let him observe. “Shit,” Tony cursed, “He’s only got like ten minutes left before I have to wake him up.” He bit his lip, “ _ Shit _ ,” he repeated. 

“What’s wrong? What’s he dreaming about?” Steve asked, looking in between Bruce and Tony as if either one was about to give him the answer. “J, when was his last nightmare?” Tony asked, ignoring the soldier. “Four nights ago, sir,” the AI replied. “Okay, how many consecutive nights has he been having them leading up to that?”

“Eight, sir.”

“That  _ idiot _ ,” Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’s been awake for almost five days,” Tony announced, shaking his head. “And I didn’t-” Tony cut himself off, “Five minutes,” he corrected as he saw Bruce begin to move around in his sleep. “Tony, what has he been having nightmares about?” Steve pushed. Tony forced a smile, “That doesn’t really matter right now, Cap,” he pulled at his hair a little bit. “Come  _ on _ , Tony. Dr. Banner is on my team, it matters because it affects him, it matters because he affects us, so it will affect us and what we do and how we work. Don’t you get it, Tony?”

“Don’t  _ I  _ get it?” Tony scoffed, “You’re the one still calling Bruce ‘Dr. Banner’. You’re the one that’s still keeping emotional ties from him, you’re the one that only cares about this, because you  _ care  _ about the Other Guy. Bruce just wants-” Bruce startled awake and Tony was at his side in a second. “Hey, hey, you’re in the Tower, Bruce. You’re okay, he’s dead, Bruce. It’s okay,” Tony promised him, slowly rubbing his back. Bruce took in a few shaking breaths before he cleared his face of any panic, any expression. Tony closed his eyes for a second. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, I should’ve known that it was getting bad, I should’ve woken you up sooner. I’m sorry.” Bruce shook his head, “It’s okay,” Bruce muttered, trying to pull away from Tony and get out of the bed. Tony sighed, but let Bruce move away. “We’re going to get some food into you, and then you’re going to take your regular meds after you get some more sleep and then we’re going to get on the phone with Miller and she’s going to hook you up with a therapist, because I’m not doing this shit again, you hear me?” he asked. Bruce shook his head and disappeared into the closet, unable to comment on what the engineer had said. Tony shook his head, then trained his attention back on Steve. “You can go now.” 

Steve looked incredulous, “You want me to  _ go _ ?  _ Now _ ?” he asked. “Yes,  _ now _ , Cap,” Tony harshly whispered, “You’re  _ not _ helping, if I think you can help, then I’ll get you, but you need to go. Right now,” he threatened. “Please,” he added, looking up at the ceiling, “Just let me help him,” he whispered. Steve studied him for a minute. “Okay,” he answered finally, “Okay. I’ll be on my floor if you need me.” Steve left the room and moments later, Bruce came back out, dressed in sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt, something he normally packed for a post Code Green mission. Tony swallowed, Bruce was clearly tired if he wasn’t dressing like he normally did. His downcast eyes and the slight tremble in his hunched over shoulders told him the rest. 

"Hey, buddy, where are you on touching right now?" he asked softly, wanting to extend to his friend the idea that he wasn’t alone in this, that he had someone fighting on his side. Bruce kept his eyes down, "Three point five," Bruce whispered, "Max," he added. Tony gave him a sad, worn look, "I know hugging kicks in at about six, but you think if I move slow enough I can swing it?" he smiled a little, trying to keep the mood as light as he could. Bruce thought a second, before nodding. Tony held his hands out, palms facing to the ceiling as he slowly approached Bruce, sending him soothing words, trying not to scare the man. About a meter from Bruce, he stopped and began to extend his hands even further, his practiced movements making it clear he had done this before, if anyone else had been there. Bruce carefully reached out to meet Tony's hands, he breathed slowly, measuring each breath. "We're okay, Bruce. We're good here, yeah?" Bruce nodded slightly at his words, breaching the gap of their fingers. After a moment, Bruce shifted forward slightly, his hands traveling further up Tony's arms. "I'm going to touch your wrists okay?" Bruce nodded again, stronger this time. At the same fragile pace, Tony twisted his arms around so that Bruce could see his fingers as they reached down and slowly stroked his skin. "What are we at now, bud?" Tony asked, glancing up to see if Bruce would make eye contact with him. He didn't, instead softly replying, "Four, maybe with a point five." 

"I'm taking what I can get," Tony promised him, slowly sliding his fingers forward. "Nod when you're prepared to hug, 'kay?" Tony requested. "Okay," Bruce mumbled, his eyes not leaving Tony's fingers as they traced the physicists veins. Another minute trickled by, before he tipped his head upward and gave Tony a short nod, bracing his whole body. The engineer held back a sigh as he began to pull Bruce toward him, until he was stiffly wrapped in a hug. It took several more minutes for him to relax into the touch as Tony drew circles into his back. "That's it, big guy. We're good, yeah? I've got you, we're gonna be okay." 

Bruce nodded, not really agreeing, just indicating that he heard Tony. He felt his body droop more, and Tony commented, "There we go. Let's get some food into you, okay? Unless you want to stay here for a little bit longer?" he asked, pulling away a bit to see Bruce’s face. He shook his head and quickly ended the contact away. His eyes darted up to Tony, "Five, if we're lucky," he  said offhandedly, avoiding the real question. "You want to eat?" Tony repeated. Bruce shook his head at the question, but replied with, "I will," trying to appease the engineer. "God, I hate it when you're like this," Tony muttered, guiding Bruce towards the door, not touching, "You of all people don't deserve to be like this."

"I'm sorry," Bruce whispered. "Don't be," Tony replied, "It's not your fault. It's all brain chemistry, you know that," Tony sighed, running a hand over his jaw. Then he switched gears, trying to deal with problems he knew he could actually fix. "I'm like ninety-eight percent sure that you don't have any food down here." He indicated for Bruce to sit down, "So, do you want one of the others to bring us food, have me go get some and one of them stay down here with you, or go together up to the common floor to get some food. And don't give me that crap about you not needing to be babysat or that JARVIS can watch you, because as great as he is-"

The AI interrupted with a quick, "Thank you, sir," as Tony finished, "He can't physically stop you from doing something, okay?" After Bruce nodded, Tony asked, "Which one do you want then?" Bruce shrugged, "None of them, but you can have Clint come down here with something if you're hungry," he answered, putting his head in his hands on top of the counter. "I can have that arranged," Tony's mouth quirked in a smile despite himself, "Do you want grilled cheese or soup? Because those are pretty much the only things either me or him can make." 

Bruce shrugged again, his mouth slightly turning upwards at the joke, but it was so small and gone so quickly that Tony could've imagined it for all he knew. "You've gone almost twenty hours without eating, bud, so I know you're hungry," Tony whispered reaching across the kitchen island to where Bruce was, but not engaging any touch, just leaving the option. "One or two, grilled cheese or canned soup?" Bruce shook slightly, pulling out one of his hands and holding out a single finger. "Okay," Tony whispered, "I'll call Merida." He pulled out his phone and clicked on Clint's contact information, starting the call. He cut off any questions the spy might have with, "How do you feel about bringing some bread and cheese slices down for me and my favorite physicist to have for lunch?" 

Clint was silent for several seconds, and Tony could hear someone else talking on the other end of the call. Finally, the archer replied, "I'll be right down," and hung up. "He's on his way, got it, Brucie?" The man in question nodded into his hands. "Good," Tony waited a moment before turning around and started searching through Bruce's cabinets for a pan and spatula. He also used the time to start collecting all of Bruce's various sharp kitchen objects. "You don't have to," Bruce muttered, once he realized what Tony was doing, "It's not like I can actually-" 

His sentence went unfinished, as JARVIS announced, "Agent Barton is requesting access to this floor." Tony looked over to Bruce, happy for an excuse to not keep talking about it. "You going to let him in, lima bean?" Bruce shook his head, before straightening his body and clearing his throat, a mask covering his face immediately, all signs of his sadness, or any real emotion, tucked away. "Yeah, you can let him in JARVIS." 

"Very good, sir," the AI replied, and they could hear the elevator doors slide open. A second later, Clint was entering the kitchen, he took stock of everything in the room, like the spy he was, but made no comment on it. Instead, he held out a grocery bag, "I come bearing gifts," he promised, emptying the bag of the bread and cheese and filled it easily with all the knives and pokers sitting on the counter without a word. "Bye guys," he said, and then left. The moment the elevator doors clicked shut, Bruce's posture and mask tumbled down as he crumpled onto the island, his forehead against the cool granite as his arms wrapped around himself. 

Tony felt honored to be allowed to see his friend like this, all his defenses down, all of his mind and body maxed out from over thinking about all the wrong stuff. 

He discovered some butter in the fridge and he made quick work preparing the sandwiches. Once they were done, he cut them into fourths and placed one in front of Bruce and kept the other next to himself. "Eat up, big guy," Tony told him. Bruce looked up miserably, shaking himself a little. He moved his food around for a moment before taking a bite and saw Tony’s shoulders visibly relax. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, when the silence stretched for too long. “You’re okay, Brucie, I’m not mad, no one’s mad at you. We just want you to be safe, and I know you can’t be when you’re not at your one hundred percent,” Tony replied, drawing in to get Bruce’s eye contact. The physicist nodded, looking down at his plate again. “Okay,” he answered, running his hands through his hair, “Okay,” he nodded, trying to smile to his friend, but finding himself unable to hold it. He forced himself to continue eating, pulling at his hair every once in awhile. Tony unwrapped his fingers, and held them in his own after he’d finished eating. “Sorry,” he muttered, “I didn’t-”

“You’re okay,” Tony repeated, “I’m just trying to make sure you’re not hurting yourself,” he promised. Bruce nodded, but pulled his fingers away, resting his head in his hands, but not pushing them into his hair. “Do you want to try and sleep again?” Tony asked, “We have about three more hours before you need to take your meds,” he reminded his friend. “They’re under my sink,” Bruce whispered through his hands. “What?” Tony asked, lifting up his chin to facilitate eye contact. Bruce refused to look at the engineer. “I put the ones I didn’t eat under my sink, since you’re going to go through my bathroom anyway, I might as well tell you where they are,” he waited for a moment, but Tony was giving him time to continue. Bruce swallowed heavily, “I wasn’t going to swallow them all, I just didn’t want to be wasteful,” he muttered, his gaze not leaving the stove he was staring at. “Okay,” Tony breathed slowly, “Thank you for telling me,” Tony reached out to take Bruce’s hand, but he pulled away dropped his head into them. “Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” Tony asked, trying to gauge how Bruce was actually feeling, other than trapped, under watch. Bruce nodded and forced himself to walk towards his bedroom. “Please, come in,” he muttered, “Since JARVIS can’t keep you out.”


	3. Chapter 3

Tony  gave his friend a moment to get to bed, before joining Bruce in his room, taking his seat like a Roman sentry. “Might as well comb through my bathroom while I’m out,” Bruce yawned, dropping his head against the pillow, forcing himself into his dreams. 

Ten minutes later, he was asleep and Clint was sitting to Tony’s left. “Steve's upset," Clint commented as he deftly dropped out of the ceiling vent. Tony shrugged, unfazed as he worked on his tablet, “He'll get over it.” The engineer’s jaw worked as Bruce twisted in his sleep, but he didn’t show any signs of being disturbed in his sleep past that. "He wants to know why you kicked him out," Clint pushed, taking the same seat Steve had been in no less than an hour before. Tony rolled his eyes, but his forced joking demeanor didn’t make him look any less worried."He wasn't helping, I told him that," Tony reattempted, glossing over the real reasons. He shifted in his seat, turning towards the archer, but resting his tablet onto his lap and reading through notes from his interns on some SI projects he and Bruce had started. "He wants to know why." Clint gave the engineer an unamused look, hoping this situation would warrant a straight answer. 

"Are you on coms with him?" Tony asked, not looking up from his tablet. Clint shrugged, ignoring the question and pushing forward his own agenda, "Tell me why," he continued, forcing a grim smile, but keeping his voice low. Tony began typing on the keypad, and Clint easily, and almost entirely accidentally, deciphered the words from the general place where Tony’s fingers landed. The engineer sighed, "Erskine told Cap that the super soldier, and later Project Rebirth, serum brings out what's on the inside of whoever is given it. Cap decided to drop that helpful hint around our pal over there. Bruce refuses to make the connection that he had DID  _ way  _ before Rebirth, so he thinks that the Other Guy is part of him rather than a separate personality." Tony kept his voice calm, detached, showing his hand of just how personal the subject was to him. 

"DID?" 

"Dissociative Identity Disorder," Tony clarified, finally making eye contact with the archer. His eyes betraying all of his pain and worry. He never wanted Bruce to feel this way, after all the shit that led up to him moving into the tower and forcing them to create the contract, the physicist didn’t need Steve’s inaccurate science to deface his self-worth as well. 

After Clint didn’t reply, and Tony began to understand that his silence meant that he wasn’t processing rather than vice-versa, so he continued, "It's the fancy term for Multiple Personality Disorder," he offered, setting the tablet aside with a sigh and a prolonged glance at the sleeping physicist. 

"And you know all this… how?" Clint asked, following his gaze and frowning at his sleeping friend. "Brucie-bear told me," he deadpanned, standing up. "So Cap reminds Bruce that the Other Guy is supposedly what he really is, reminds him of-” Tony shook his head, trying to empty it of whatever he’d just remembered. “Nevermind," he concluded, raising his voice a little as he entered the bathroom so it would carry to where he’d just been sitting. 

"Of?" Clint parroted, trying to get more information than the engineer wanted to give. He got up and sat outside the bathroom door, so they could keep the volume down while Bruce slept, as Tony shrugged, "Not my place to say,” he leaned back from where he sat on the floor, going through the cabinet under the sink forced a smile through the doorway, but it was almost laughable how awful his attempt at being crude was. Everything he’d done as of late was either out of character or an attempt at being in character, it was more than enough of a tip off for anyone his the billionaire’s vicinity to know something was wrong. That he, contrary to popular belief, was affected. "Is it in his file?" Clint asked as Tony pulled out a ziploc full of uneaten pills, the archer’s mind racing through all the possible horrible events that Tony could be thinking about as well as what the purpose of the mixed up pills was going to be. 

"What isn't?" Tony deflected, turning back to the spy and holding up the baggie to show him with a sad look in his eyes. The latter let silence trickle through the air, as he thought about who knows what, before cutting it off with, "Steve also said this isn't his first time." 

Tony paused, then replied as he started filling a weekly organizer with a few pills per slot. "No, but this time is different." He looked at his hands, his eyes too empty for the archer’s liking. "How so?" he asked, feeling this need to understand what was happening in the tower that he was beginning to call home. Not just because there may or may not be a super soldier talking in his ear, but because he was beginning to care about the tower’s inhabitants, much against Natasha’s years old warnings against attachment. Tony blinked for a minute, slowly putting the organizer into a drawer, before looking over to Clint, his eyes burning an angry red, "The last two times, the… Other Guy had to show up for a mission, and that,” he paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts, “Jolly Green takes a lot of energy to pop up, yeah?" he asked, making sure that Clint wouldn’t misunderstand his simplified explanation of some very complicated bio-chem. 

"Yeah," the spy replied, nodding slowly, trying to figure out where the engineer was coming from. "That's because he has a  _ really _ good metabolism. Which also happens to burn through any meds Bruce is on, which knocks the chemicals in Bruce's brain, which the meds normally regulate, out of balance." Tony tilted his head, as if to gauge the archer’s understanding through the air waves. Clint nodded, even though Tony couldn’t see him, "But he hasn't been on the surface in almost a month…” he commented. Tony nodded, "So  _ I _ need to figure out what outside source set him off, like when he first came to the tower and it was related to something other than brain chemistry. Which reminds me,” Tony glanced away from the doorway, and over to a security camera across the room. “JARVIS, get a transcript of everything Bruce did last Sunday and Monday, and highlight any important parts. You know which one’s I’m referring to," he requested, standing up and starting to take all of the half full bottles out of the medicine cabinet. "Yes sir, transferring to your tablet now," the AI replied, and Clint saw a light flash on the screen before it returned to black. "Thanks," Tony sighed, shaking his head at the whole situation, and running a hand over his jaw. 

The engineer worked in silence after that, since Clint had stopped asking questions and Tony, for once, wasn’t in a conversational mood. Neither hero spoke until the archer reported, “He’s muttering in his sleep.” He didn’t give any specifics, but from what he could decipher, Bruce wasn’t dreaming about anything particularly nice.

Tony didn’t look over from where he searched in the extensive shower. “That’s normal,” he replied, knowing that Clint didn’t have as enhanced hearing as Steve and not asking for exact words. Instead, he requested, “Just tell me when he starts making coherent sentences, that’s when he’s about to wake up. Or, more like when someone needs to wake him up or we’ll be spending the rest of the afternoon in various panic rooms.” 

The lack of an actually comical punchline spoke volumes, even if Tony had used a soft tone, making Clint cock his head, despite the fact that the engineer couldn’t see his questioning look as the archer answered, “Okay,” his posture losing it’s S.H.I.E.L.D. agent rigidness, keeping his ears attuned. Or at least, his hearing aid’s volume up. 

Tony eventually collected all of the razors he’d found, as well as the bottles of pills into a pile next to his tablet and he and Clint sat back down where they’d been earlier, both trapped in their thoughts. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda a short chapter, kinda filler, I know, I'm sorry, but I swear the next one will have meaningful content and that this one was necessary to bridge the gap. Thanks for hanging with me!! (Also, don't expect another chapter for a while, I wasn't supposed to update this one for like two or three weeks, I just happened to finish it instead of a different one. Whoops.)


	4. Chapter 4

“Take this downstairs please,” Tony muttered, setting all of the items he had taken out of the bathroom into a basket on the bot that had brought down the paper earlier. “Thanks,” he shook his head, pulling open his tablet once again and began to sift through the patterns JARVIS had identified. But he had already guessed most of the similarities from the other times that he’d gone through this with Bruce, so he started reading through the timeline JARVIS had composed, with Clint reading over his shoulder. “What did you see, bud?” Tony wondered aloud, looking over to the sleeping physicist. “You think he was watching the news again?” Clint asked, taking the tablet out of Tony’s hands, knowing how stressed and upset Bruce tended to get after watching the news.

Tony shook his head, “No. He was on the Internet, but he hacked into my system and deleted his search history… _again_.” Clint thought for a moment, “So JARVIS doesn’t have any records of it?” After he got a nod, he continued, “Then how likely is it that Bruce would tell you what it was?”

Tony shook his head, “Not very. He really likes his wallowing,” he admitted. “Then that’s on you,” the archer told him, before leaving the room, going to check in with Natasha in the elevator. “Thanks for that helpful tip,” Tony muttered.

 

“Hey, Brucie. Wakie wakie,” Tony prattled off later that night, “Time to take your meds,” he reminded to physicist. Rather than responding, Bruce threw a pillow in Tony’s general direction. “That sounds about right,” he muttered to himself. He moved over, crawling on the bed so that he was right next to his friend. “You can’t give me that,” he chastised. “I’m sleeping,” Bruce groaned, turning away and burying his face in the mattress. “Helpful,” Tony rolled his eyes, he started lifting Bruce up, “Upsy daisy,” he said.

“Fine,” Bruce exhaled, shutting his eyes against the bright lights, which JARVIS immediately began to slowly lower them. He placed his head in his heads to collect himself, taking stock of his surroundings, of Clint. The archer didn’t comment, only looking over when Tony had gotten the daily pill box from the side table and tried to give them to the physicist. Bruce had twisted away, almost getting up off the bed, but he and Clint made eye contact with him. He blinked at him, thinking for a moment, “Fine,” he repeated, turning away from Clint and swiping all the pills out of his hand, dry swallowing them a bit passive aggressively. Tony laughed a little to himself, rolling his eyes at Bruce’s childish behavior as Clint left the room.

“You hungry?” Tony asked, looking back at his friend. Bruce shook his head, “I’m good,” he promised. “You can go back to bed,” he said, “I won’t stop you. Or, you can help me out, and tell me where all your notes are from what you’ve been working on for the past few days.” He circled around so that he was looking at the doctor. “This is up to _you_ ,” he reminded him, “There’s no right answer.” Bruce nodded. “Yeah, yeah,” he shook his head as if to clear it and looked up at Tony, “I’d rather you _didn’t_ tear apart my lab looking for it,” he joked, “Might as well show you where I kept everything.” Despite his facetious words, he still wasn’t close to being his normal self.

Tony led the way across the floor to Bruce’s state of the art workspace, as Bruce explained, “I, um, the equations that I have saved on the computer are just there to confuse JARVIS, which is why he couldn’t find a pattern or anything, they don’t have anything to do with each other. I used a book cipher instead, to organize the equations, and I rotated between five different books.” He looked around the room as they entered, his whole body sighing as he sifted through conflicted feelings of wanting to tell Tony all this, but to also keep it all a secret. To keep it as his secret weapon. “You going to write down the order for me and JARVIS?” Tony asked, sitting down in Bruce’s swivel chair. He blinked for a couple seconds, thinking it all through, before he finally nodded, and began to type up the order.

Once he’d finished, Tony reached over and emailed the list to himself. JARVIS blocked him from sending it, saying, “Sir, it’s against security protocol for you to send that without Dr. Banner’s permission,” he reminded the engineer.

“I’m just going to save them for later. J, when Brucie here has been at ten percent for more that twenty-four hours, remind me about the data, yeah? You can lock it all up so I can’t reach it until then,” Tony requested, looking over to a hidden camera as if he could facilitate eye contact with an AI, who replied, “Of course, sir,” he promised, and Tony could almost hear it being filed away. “Plus, Bruce wouldn’t have written it down if he didn’t want me to have it,” Tony forced a smile to Bruce, who nodded silently in return. “Thanks, JARVIS,” Bruce added after a moment, running a hand through his hair to ebb some of his apprehension about giving up his research.

Tony guided the physicist back into the kitchen as he suggested, “We could hang out with someone in the gang. They’re all worried about you. I didn’t think half of them knew how to text until today, honestly,” he joked, trying to draw attention away from their worried friends to that Bruce wouldn’t feel threatened, for whatever reason, by their concern.

“No, it’s fine,” Bruce replied, turning away and fiddling with some of his mail that was on the counter. “It doesn’t have to be all of them,” Tony assured him, starting to look through the mail too. “Just like one or two people. We don’t even have to look at them, just watch a movie and not… interact,” he offered.

Bruce paused for a moment, weighing the pro and cons of soothing Tony’s nerves. “I guess,” he said finally, making eye contact to see if he’d made the right choice. “Okay,” Tony smiled, “Who do you want to hang out with?” he asked, letting Bruce break eye contact. He shrugged, “Clint,” he said, since Clint’s discreet staring was a healthy mix of him actually not looking and looking when Bruce knows, and only when Bruce warranted a look. The physicist smoothed out his hair, feeling guilty that the archer had to spend more time with him, since Tony was unlikely to give him a choice.

“JARVIS, pick us out a movie. I’m thinking… eighties sci-fi. Pick something fun, J,” he requested, walking away from the counter. “And tell Legolas that he’s welcome to join us,” he added, pulling out some microwavable popcorn from the cabinets.

About ten minutes later, the three of them had sat down in the living room and JARVIS started the movie. “What the _hell_ is _Ice Pirates_ Tony?” Clint asked, giving the billionaire a sideways glance. “Um, very good question. JARVIS, what’s the rotten tomatoes verdict on this?”

“Nine percent, sir. Apologies,” the AI replied, a bit smugly. “I swear, I need to reprogram you,” Tony muttered, shaking his head. But it was okay, because five minutes later, Bruce was questioning the ability to trade in ice if you were unable to keep it cold and laughing at the absurdity of the movie in general.

It was okay, because if was thinking about the movie, then he wasn’t thinking about all the other shit that had been running through his head throughout the week.

It was okay, because maybe he could handle this and whatever else was coming up in their lives.


End file.
